


an age of aquarius

by ghostlightgalaxy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adult Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Gay, Magical Realism, No Lesbians Die, SO MUCH FLUFF, annoyingly formated text messages, author is doing her best, author knows about plants and dedicates an entire scene to showing that knowledge off, gratuitous use of flowers and herbs, idk if that needs to be tagged but they use Bad Words A Lot, just. an excuse to write gay stuff, lesbians owning cats, lots of fun magic it was so fun to write !!!!, thats a fantastic tag, the author could be persuaded to make this chaptered, will probably be updated when i realize i mess something up rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlightgalaxy/pseuds/ghostlightgalaxy
Summary: Eiza stood still, staring at Maeve and then the cat. The cat stared back, innocent eyes large and blinking slowly in the weird yellow lighting from the kitchen. “He’s probably absolutely crawling with disease… And what if he got in your plants?” she protested, but it was weaker. Curse her soft spot for both her girlfriend and small things in need. “What do we even have to feed him?” When Maeve pointedly did not respond except to murmur gentle reassurances to the kitten in that same baby-talk, Eiza heaved a sigh and turned to check the kitchen cabinets.A second passed before she broke the silence once more, “You didn’t even bring me coffee!”XTwo gay women live together and adopt cats and talk about feelings. The author has way too much fun writing about said cats and feelings. The author lives vicariously through her characters.





	an age of aquarius

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for one of my classes last semester, but i want to make it more accessible for my friends to read lmao. hopefully yall enjoy it? idk i've lurked on this site for years and its only my second story..

  
X  
Maeve: omw home, cookies and coffe from that café??  
Maeve: okie im just gonna get it anyway  
Maeve: see u in 10!!!  
  
“Ugh, fuck, the weather forecast said there wasn’t supposed to be rain until this evening,” Maeve grumbled, pulling her jacked tighter around her body to shield from the harsh wind. Classes – especially potions – had been long and exhausting. It was all she could do to hurry through the gusts, nevermind charming her backpack or jacket against getting wet. The café they frequented was only a few minutes down a side road, and the fact that Maeve knew the route was a testament to their love of the bistro. Maeve could get turned around walking through the apartment on a sunny day.

X

As soon as Maeve pushed the creaky front door open, Eiza was hollering out a “HEY WELCOME HOMEEE!” from the living room. The dull noise from the TV cut off as Maeve toed her soaked shoes off. Eiza continues speaking, voice getting nearer. “Hey, okay, did you use the microwave for another homework assignment for that shitty charms class? It smells like shit everywhere and it kinda… started smoking when I microwaved some cup ramen.”  
  


“Huh? What? Uh, yeah, I… the microwave?” Maeve rounded the corner into the kitchen, backpack levitating next to her while she shook rainwater off her jacket. She pushed up on her toes to plant a kiss on Eiza’s waiting lips. Home always restored some of her energy, but she really wanted to take a warm shower and curl up under some blankets.  
  


“Microwave… Oh! Yeah, Professor Kaare made us practice intent on a crystal for… Some reason. But I forgot that it needed to charge in the sun for. Like. A fucking week, and procrastinated, and last-minute tried to imbue it with the equivalent energy…”  
  


“Oh my fucking- how well did that work?”  
  


“mew”  
  


Maeve went rigid, eyes trained on the wall next to Eiza’s shoulder.  
  


“What- What was that?” Eiza asked, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn tight. She heaved a sigh, “Please tell me… That that was not a cat. Please tell me you do not have a cat. With you. Right now.”  


“Well, so- what happened was, it was raining, and I found this bag and he was in it and he sounded so pathetic I couldn’t just leave him!”  
  


“You know I’m allergic.” Eiza was flabbergasted. They had this conversation monthly when Maeve had intense bouts of baby-fever and latched onto the next best thing: kittens. It was only a result of their mutual status as full-time students and Eiza’s insistence that they did not have the time or energy to take on any animals. This was; however, the first time Maeve had gone so far as to bring home an actual, live cat.  


“C’mon, E-Z baby, please? I’ve been working on common illness charms! I can make you a thing,” Maeve sunk into a crouch, yanked the zipper of her backpack open, and retrieved a mewling mess of a kitten. Its fur was matted to its scraggly body with dirt and rain and filth. Maeve cooed and held him closer to her chest, regardless. “The widdle baby just needs a bath and some food.”  
  


Eiza stood still, staring at Maeve and then the cat. The cat stared back, innocent eyes large and blinking slowly in the weird yellow lighting from the kitchen. “He’s probably absolutely crawling with disease… And what if he got in your plants?” she protested, but it was weaker. Curse her soft spot for both her girlfriend and small things in need. “What do we even have to feed him?” When Maeve pointedly did not respond except to murmur gentle reassurances to the kitten in that same baby-talk, Eiza heaved a sigh and turned to check the kitchen cabinets.  
  


A second passed before she broke the silence once more, “You didn’t even bring me coffee!”  


X

Despite all Eiza’s protests about her allergies, Maeve knew she was really far more lactose intolerant than allergic to cats, and she still drank large, sugary lattes from their favored café.  


Regardless, that very weekend Maeve made a trip to Baba Yaga’s Herbs Shoppe to pick up ingredients. She was thankful for the fact that her potions teacher was such a hardass, as she had gotten much better over the semester. Otherwise, she would never have thought to attempt this sort of potion. She even had the sudden inspiration to throw Eiza’s hesitation right into her face by making the decoction into a milkshake. Although Maeve had to admit, the other’s reluctance was more for show than anything else. Eiza had helped bathe the little furball, gently drying him off and found put together a plate of whatever she found online was acceptable to feed cats. 

The wind tossed Maeve’s flyaways as she pushed open the store’s door. A gentle chime sounded to announce her presence. From within the depths of the storeroom, an echoed voice called out, “Welcome! I will be right out!”  
  


“Take your time, Baba,” Maeve responded.  
  


“Oh, its you, dear. It has been a minute since you’ve swung by!” The elderly woman emerged, dusting cobwebs off her apron. “I hate to bother, but would you mind doing another talisman for me? There has been some unfavorable energy around the back bathroom, and it’s frightening my part-timers.”  
Maeve could not help but to laugh. “Certainly, you could do it yourself? You have all the items here anyway. I don’t see why need to rely on me.”  
  


“Yes, but it takes a certain touch that I don’t have anymore. you kids are much more in tune with streams of magic that flow through this world. And anyway, you shouldn’t smoke your own supply,” Baba Yaga winked at Maeve’s incredulous expression, chuckling to herself. She made her way to an ancient looking sofa, overstuffed and of a horrendous floral pattern. Staring too long gave Eiza headaches on the rare occasion that Maeve sent her to pick up ingredients.  
  


Maeve started to search the familiar cabinetry for the ingredients she needed, mentally figuring up what she would need to grab to cover Baba Yaga’s request. “Don’t worry about it, Baba. It might take me a moment to find time, but I can whip it up for you.” She turned a corner around a shelf to hunt down jasmin, faintly hearing a hum of affirmation from the elder. She greatly looked up to Baba Yaga’s magic. Her skill was far superior to even that of Maeve’s professors, and as much as she enjoyed the classroom experience, she would have rather apprenticed with Baba. Unfortunately, in order to be recognized as legitimate, Maeve needed a degree.  
  


Maeve perused the aisles. Bookshelves and drawers led all the way up to the ceiling, filled to bursting with herbs and flowers, dried and fresh. Fragrant incenses and colorful candles, bins full of half-used recycled candlesticks. River stones for simple enchantments and pricier crystals, large and bulky, for more difficult ones. Maeve loved the atmosphere of the shop. If she could, she would have spent every afternoon here, working over the heavy cast iron cauldron and reading from fusty old tomes. The chain ingredient shops that sold bulk for cheap were fine for what she needed for classwork, but this was where she really enjoyed shopping. There was essence of magic in everything from the carefully stacked books to the empty offering bowl on the windowsill.  
  


Embedded in trays of salt were antiques, a variety of knives and lockets and mirrors. Maeve knew the stories of some items, having assisted Baba Yaga in acquiring them. Many were haunted or had the intent of some poor spirit still clinging to it. She wished antiques shops would start enlisting magic users to purify some of the more malicious spirits before they were sold to unsuspecting individuals, many of whom were nonmagical and therefore unable to pick up on the potentially dangerous energies.  
  


Maeve once described the bad auras to Eiza as the taste of pennies, coppery and dull on your tongue. Eiza had immediately attempted to lick her pocket change, and Maeve gave up. Eiza had laughed and swept her up into her arms to press kisses all over Maeve’s face, cooing about how smart her girlfriend was. Maeve had huffed and complained, but melted into the affection, nonetheless.  
  


Maeve’s fingers ghosted near the edge of a gilded bolline, metal rusted from disuse but bone handle polished and decorated beautifully. The moon-curve shape of the blade was complimented by the carvings of the moon in all its phases that adorned the handle. It was oh-so-tempting, but the knife was certainly for a form of magic associated with the black. This relic had the aura less of copper and more of blood, a tang as alluring as it was unpleasant. Maeve turned and busied herself with her original task.

X

E-Z: Firstly, wonderous news: our sweet lovely baby boy emerged from his hiding place to sniff at the food, stared me down, and then retreated back into the bookshelf.  


Secondly,  


Why. [image attached]  


Why are there. Leaves. In my coffee mugs?  


Maevie-waivie: dO NOT TOUCH  
im pROPAGATING them for the landlady!!  
also!!! my lovely boy!! im so glad hes warming up to us!!! :crying face:  


E-Z: That answers none of my questions. Hoe am I going to make coffee?  
*how  


Maevie-waivie: :eyes: don’t call me a hoe, binch  
i dunno, just use a regular cup or smth  
im in class and my prof is makign angry eyes at me  
in the interest of not getting literally poisoned by my divinations ta, ttyl :heart:  


E-Z: :heart:

X

When one of the girls had a bad day, their tells gave it away. For Maeve, she knew she receded. She crawled back into that shell of a girl she was before she met Eiza, holed up in her studies, pulling late nights to read up on magical theory and application. She was reckless when she assisted neighbors in dealing with errant spirits or breaking curses. Her worries about the future and herself and her relationship make her spiral into a dark place, days blur without sleep or food or hygiene. Her plants start to wilt, she doesn’t do the dishes, she doesn’t wash the laundry. It piles up, little problems until it becomes a mountain that she can’t handle.  
  


It was easier after moving in with Eiza. She was the anchor to Maeve’s ocean. When they met, Maeve had spilled three drinks in the span of fifteen minutes, hands shaky as she babbled to a mutual friend about the theory of black magic or something. Eiza had taken one look at the short mess of a girl and found something in there she liked. When Maeve starts returning to old habits, Eiza is there to draw her a bath, to pick up the dirty laundry off her floor and start the dishwasher. Maeve has never been under the impression that Eiza was taking care of her, but that she helped to chip away at the mountain by helping with what she could.  
  


Eiza’s bad days are far fewer. It makes it that much more difficult to handle. The girl is happy, energetic, caring almost to a fault. She would give the shirt off her back it she thought it would help someone else. The love she pushes out into the world is a false front. It took months of knowing each other, and even longer of dating, for Maeve to finally recognize that Eiza was nowhere near as impervious as she let on. Their first real argument had been over something small and stupid, but it had escalated in the way that silly problems tend to. It was the first time Eiza had confronted being vulnerable in front of another person. Being able to receive affection from another person, to hand them your heart and trust they would care for it? She wasn’t sure she could handle.  
  


When all was said and done, it took a long, long conversation to smooth over. Eiza struggled through it, stomach twisting that Maeve might realize she was more effort than she cared for. What if Maeve took one look at her, who she really was, and decided it wasn’t worth it? That she didn’t want to be part of her life? Her concerns were dashed. Maeve had reached across the walls, over the divide, and grabbed Eiza by the hand. Convinced her that maybe, some things were worth the risk. That Eiza was worth the risk, to her.  
  


They live together, now. Insecurities and concerns are addressed far before they escalate. Maeve leaves her dirty laundry behind the bedroom door, and Eiza brings it up. Buys a set of laundry hampers to make washing laundry easier, and Maeve makes an effort to abide by the organization. Eiza gets quiet, reclusive, plasters on a big smile even when she doesn’t feel it and Maeve sees her. Holds her hand and reminds her that it’s okay to not be okay all the time and that she is loved.

As Maeve bustled through the front door, arms laden with cotton bags of fresh, fragrant things and announced her presence to the house, she was met with a silence. Eiza was home, or so the keys on the entry table, shoes piled on the floor, and jacket hung next to the door suggested. Perhaps she just hadn’t heard Maeve? Normally she called back immediately…  
  


“The market was open today, and that lovely old couple was there!” Maeve called, just a tad bit louder in case Eiza was deeper in the apartment and had managed to miss her at first. “They gave me some sweet deals on vegetables, so we can stop eating like college students and start eating like functioning adults. I also got a new thingie of raw honey and a bit of comb, but don’t eat it all because I need some for this spell I’m going to try, something for that spirit that keeps drifting through.” Clinking jars and ruffling could be heard as Maeve went about putting her purchases away in the kitchen. Still, no response from Eiza. Was she sleeping? Had something terrible happened that Maeve was unaware of? Perhaps some unknown danger lurked outside the light cast from the kitchen that she would stumble into, a serial killer that had gotten to her lover and was lying in wait? Maeve stopped and forced herself to take a few deep breaths. Eiza’s thriller television was getting to her head. Maeve waited until her heart stopped skipping in her chest, focusing on expelling air with purpose. She steeled herself as a precaution, and then ventured deeper into the house to hunt Eiza down.  
  


Maeve didn’t have to look far. A lump lay on the floor of the living room. Eiza lay, face down and pressed into the carpet next to the coffee table. “Oh, Eiza, baby, what’s wrong?” Maeve was quick to try to comfort the older. With gentle hands, she encouraged Eiza to sit up and look at her.  
  


Eiza’s face was blotchy and puffy. Her eyes glassy and unfocussed. She didn’t say anything, but after a moment of tense silence, she hunched and curled into Maeve, tucking her face into the crook of her neck. She was shaking. Maeve petted her hand down her back, gentle and loving. She offered what comfort she could, murmuring into Eiza’s ear about how much she loved the other. The words only seemed to upset Eiza further.  


“’m not. ‘m not worth it. You’re too-“ Eiza cut off to gasp in a shuddering breath through her sobs. Her words tripped over each other, “you’re too gh-good for me. Don’t deserve it.”  
  


“Of course you are worth it, love. I’d give you the world if you asked. You deserve everything and more.” Maeve was dismayed. This had come out of nowhere. Usually, Eiza’s insecurities crept up slowly and Maeve could pick up on the signs early. This was something else entirely. “What happened?” When Eiza shook her head minutely, Maeve pressed. “Please, tell me, love. Did I do something?”  
  


“No! You didn’t do any- anything wrong. ‘M just. I’m not smart enough, I don’t understand fucking anything and no matter how hard I work I can’t measure up and-“ Eiza broke off again, tucking herself even closer to Maeve as if afraid the younger might leave.  
  


Maeve held Eiza tighter. “You are plenty smart. You work so hard, you’re always studying, you tutor kids in the class you TA for, you go above and beyond to understand material even in that one class with the teacher that doesn’t understand that not everyone has the same learning style! You are the smartest person I know!” Maeve’s eyes fell on something she hadn’t noticed before Eiza had moved. A stack of paper so large it was binder-clipped rather than stapled, the sides crumpled slightly as if it had been gripped tightly. The visible top page was absolutely covered in red scrawl. She reached one hand over to pick it up. The red writing continued just as thoroughly across the rest of the pages. The very top of the first page had a large F written heavily and circled. Maeve’s chest ached.  
  


“Oh, Eiza… This was that paper you were worried about for weeks, isn’t it?” Eiza’s sobs got harder, chest heaving as they wracked her body. Maeve held her tighter, pressing her face into Eiza’s hair and pressing kisses. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I’m so so so proud of you, no matter what you do.”  
  


A soft pressure was put on the thigh Eiza wasn’t draped across. Startled, Maeve looked down. There, timid as a fawn, stood their little hideaway. He sniffed like he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to be so close.  
  


Eiza gave a watery smile. “It’s Bookshelf out from hiding.” She reached a hand out slowly to pet his cheek. He gave a little mrup and climbed right up between the two girls, having made up his mind. They sat like that, holding on to each other until long after the sun had set.

X

The concoction of salt water and orange rinds on the stove steamed heavily as it rose to a boil. Maeve stirred it, gently chanting under her breath to encourage the salt and orange to bind and become purer. Sage hung over the kitchen window and had been drying for a while. Light from the midday sun filtered through the bundles of thick sprigs, casting shadows across the counter and floor. Maeve had to be careful turning around too quickly, as Bookshelf had commandeered the warm sunlit patches for his nap. The last think Maeve wanted to do was spook him when he was just beginning to warm up to them. She strained the orange spirals through cheesecloth, wincing only slightly at the heat. Over time, she had worked up some serious asbestos hands. She placed the rinds onto a cookie sheet and into the oven under a low heat to dry. The boiling was a mildly unnecessary step, but it was how her mentor taught her years ago and she would stand by their method regardless what her professors said.  
  


Stepping gently around the prone cat, she gathered a few bundles of sage and select other herbs. As much as she enjoyed Baba Yaga’s shop, it was far cheaper to grow what she could herself, though she did indulge in purchasing certain things to spruce up spells and potions. From the bin next to the counter, she picked through the various sticks and twigs to select a few of pieces of aspen. This type of wood was good for spiritual purposes. A talisman would be constructed with bits of sage and aspen, dried orange rind, and various other carriers for intent before it was smoked and put in a clove made of worn leather The actual magic was what was imbued with spells and intent. Any person could put the ingredients together, but the real magic was in the wielder’s intent and energy. More complex, specific spells or potions required a more experienced caster to ensure nothing went awry. Things could go bad very quickly when a spell was fudged.  
  


The thrum of energy was thick in the air as she began constructing the bundle. Laid out on a wooden cutting board, she placed sage, thyme, jasmin, and still-warm orange pieces into concentric circles on the sheath of leather. She placed the twigs out into a figure of a falling leaf into the very middle. The figure looked as if a capital T was turned on a diagonal and a capital F was superimposed. Feathers were strong symbolism for protection, and the physical toll of manifesting the energy was more difficult to handle than Maeve had anticipated. She had to focus to ignore the budding of a headache at the base of her skull and behind her eyes. The mixture of salt and sage were a heady combination that permeated the air and made it hard for Maeve to feel as if she was breathing fully. She was quick and clear as she recites the incantation above the circle.  


“Dona nobis pacem, et liber  


Semper liber  


Tuebor, ab intra  


Abset omen  


Dona nobis pacem, et liber

“Consummatum est,” Maeve gasped. She was shaking. Why was she shaking? This was an easy spell; the ingredients were few and simple. The counter was shifting, going sideways. Maeve panicked, grabbing hold of it to make sure the carefully laid out circle did not fall off the counter. It didn’t feel like it was moving underneath her hands, but the world was still spinning. Maeve could barely see as she gathered the edges of leather to tie up for the time being.  
  


Steady hands enveloped her own and she could feel warmth at her back. She was slumping against the sturdiness before she could think twice. Distantly, she recognized the presence as that of her girlfriend, but it was like she was experiencing everything through clouded glass. When the floor disappeared beneath her feet, she could do little but to gasp in surprise. She felt clearer air on her face and breathed deeply in relief as she felt herself lowered onto something soft and comfortable. Her eyes were closed. When had she closed her eyes?  
  


“Just breathe, honey. Breathe.” That was Eiza. When had she gotten home? Maeve did her best to focus on breathing in the air, less stale and salty than it had been in the kitchen. She wasn’t sure of how much time passed before something cool and wet was placed on her forehead and Eiza’s hand was trailing down her cheek.  
  


“I think you overexerted, baby. What were you doing?”  
  


“Jus’ a-“ Maeve cracked an eye open and immediately regretted it as bright light assaulted her senses and the headache flared up to a deep pounding. She winced. Her mouth was so thick it was like talking through peanut butter. She swallowed heavily before trying again, “Just a protection clove for Baba Yaga. Shouldn’t have been so hard. Don’t know.” Her eyes stung, hot and sharp and prickly. “Don’t know why it was so hard.” She wouldn’t cry over something so stupid. It was just a spell, just a talisman. Nothing more. She had done dozens in the past, why did this one take such a toll? It didn’t make sense and everything hurt and all Maeve wanted to do was dunk her head in ice water because it was hot and her head hurt.  
  
Eiza disappeared, coming back with a glass of water that she held to Maeve’s mouth, helping the younger to sit up and sip slowly.  
  


“You can open your eyes, I turned the living room light off, baby. It’s okay.” Eiza’s voice was soft and soothing. Maeve just wanted to cry even harder. Instead, she sipped at the water. It was cool and refreshing and she felt it slide all the way down her throat and into her stomach. “It’s okay if it was hard to do. You did well. Is it done?”  
  


“It shouldn’t have been hard!” Maeve burst, wincing and closing her eyes tight as it spiked another bout of throbbing in her head. And in her state, there was no way she could handle even the incantation that would rid her of the headache. She really was pathetic, wasn’t she? Just a half-baked magic user high on the mere fact that she could do magic.  
  


“But it was. That’s okay. You did well. I’m proud of you.” Eiza was still so gentle with her. Speaking in hushed tones, ever mindful of the headache her lover was dealing with. She pushed the cup back against Maeve’s mouth, encouraging her to drink more. “Maybe today it was a little harder than it would have been other days, but that’s okay. Sometimes I can’t make my brain focus enough to do even simple math. It is what it is.” Confident that Maeve wouldn’t drop the cup if Eiza let go of it, she moved back and stood slowly as to not jostle the other.  
  


As Maeve cracked her eyes open once more, slowly, she watched the receding back of her girlfriend disappear around the hallway corner. Her attention was drawn towards a cold nose against her arm. Bookshelf stood on the couch arm, one foot on the decorative pillows propping Maeve up as he investigated what the commotion was all about. Maeve smiled and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Surprisingly, he let her and then even climbed across the pillows to settle in her lap for scratches and pets. Maeve let the soft feeling of his fur running through her fingers calm her. When Eiza returned, it was with a pill and another damp washcloth.  
  


“Painkiller, for the headache,” she passed the pill.  
  
Maeve took it with several large gulps of water, trying to mask the feeling of the capsule sliding down her throat. She hated taking traditional medicine.  
  


Eiza swapped the washcloth in her hand for the one on Maeve’s forehead and she melted against the cushions as the coolness calmed the pounding even a little. She kept her eyes on Eiza as the older girl folded the used washcloth over and then started dabbing it gently around her face. At Maeve’s questioning glance, Eiza held the cloth back to show a deep red staining and flaking onto the rag.  
  


“You must have strained something. Let me know if it hurts, please.” It didn’t hurt much anymore, but the tenderness of Eiza’s eyes, of her voice, of her hands on her skin gently cleaning and healing and loving. Maeve’s eyes stung, nose burning. She didn’t hold back this time and let the wet roll down her cheeks.

X

“Okayokayokay, close your eyes,” Eiza rushed out, hands reaching forward to cover Maeve’s eyes as an extra precaution. “Okay. Okay, are they closed? Stay there! Don’t move!” Eiza’s feet moved away and a long moment passed before they shuffled back. “Don’t open them yet! Wait for it… Wait…” Eiza stopped moving when she got close enough for her perfume to waft over Maeve. “Okay, open!”  
  


Maeve peeked one eye open at first, and then the other flew open in shock.  
  


“Surprise! Uh, isn’t he… cute?” Even Eiza didn’t sound entirely convinced. In her arms was by far the largest, strangest cat Maeve had ever seen. He was tar-black and looked frighteningly muscular for a cat. He had a torn ear, his left eye was covered in a gnarly scar, and his tail looked shorter than it should have been. 

“Okay, I’m setting him down now,” Eiza grunted. “He weighs about as much as a medium-sized dog. I know you’ve been really stressed lately, and I figured Bookshelf needed a friend!”  
  


The monster cat leapt onto the back of the couch and sat, looking thoroughly unimpressed. He stared at Maeve. Maeve stared back.  
  


“Well? What do you think? I’ll let you name him…” Eiza trailed off as she watched Maeve’s carefully neutral face. Maeve turned to her idiot of a girlfriend. The hopeful look on Eiza’s face was so genuine and sweet it made Maeve’s heart hurt.  
  


“He is just about the ugliest looking thing. I love him.” A smile twitched at the corner of Maeve’s mouth. “I’ll concede to the name Bookshelf if I get to name this little monstrosity Mephistopheles.”  
Eiza couldn’t stop smiling as she grabbed Maeve’s hand and reeled her in to a tight embrace. “Puh-lease, such a big boy deserves some respect doncha think? Mister Mephistopheles is far better.”  


“Mister Mephistopheles it is.” Maeve pushed up on her toes to gently lay her forehead against Eiza’s. “I think he and Bookshelf will be great brothers.”

X

Maeve, a Mother: i picked a projection book up from an upperclassman, whomst happens to b mildly attractive but that is niether here nor there, and it is actually super interesting stuff??? I wish intro divinations covered some of this bc I might give more than two shits about the class  


Maeve, a Mother: but I am in Despearte need of seeing the lobe of my life: my Babies  


E-Z bake oven: [image attached]  


Maeve, a Mother: that’s a cute selfie bb but I was talkinga bout my cats  


E-Z bake oven: You don’t love me anymore? binch  


E-Z bake oven: [image attached]  
Bookshelf is pouting on his perch because I didn’t let him throw up on ur potions textbook  
Ur welcome  


Maeve, a Mother changed nickname to im in LoveLove w my GF  


E-Z bake oven: smooth.  


E-Z bake oven changed nickname to stop changing my profile name, dummy  
im in LoveLove w my GF: aweeee poor widdle babiieeeeeeee  
also thank u :sneezing face: for saving my life I cannot afford another textbook this Fiscal Year  
also also, i didnt realize u were.. like. serious about naming him bookshelf. i swear i thought u were joking this whole time??  


stop changing my profile name, dummy: Why would I ever joke about our son???  
Who do u take me for??????  
Also, absolutely I am 1000% serious about calling him bookshelf  
You’re the one that named one of our babies after a DEMON  


im in LoveLove w my GF: he looked absoluetly terrifying at first u cant blame me. i didn’t know he was gonna b a cuddlebug!  
don’t forget bb, tonites takeout and documentaries about black magic night  
ily!!  


stop changing my profile name, dummy: I’d never forget. See you when you get home :heart:

  


Throwing the front door open hard enough to slam it against the door jam, Maeve announces her presence by hollering, “where’s the prettiest woman in the world?”  
  


When no response comes, but for the distant gentle mew from Bookshelf – quite noticeably distinct from Mr. Mephistopheles, who’s meow sounded less like a timid kitten and more like the yowl of a mountain lion -Maeve pouted and scrunched up her face. Her perfect entrance ruined just like that! Thankfully, text messages from earlier ensured that today was not like the last time Maeve came back to silence. That, and the muted humming from the living room. As Maeve ventured further into the apartment, she noticed the light from the living room lamp was on. An explanation for the silence was perched on the couch, asleep and definitely snoring quietly. All around Eiza, papers were spread out. The coffee table, couch cushions, and even the floor were a mess with them.  
  


With a giggle, Maeve flipped the overhead lights on and moved into the kitchen. As much as she was sure Eiza needed the nap, she also needed to eat dinner and go to bed at a decent time. She would be more likely to do that if she didn’t ruin her schedule by napping all afternoon. As she moves to put water on to boil in the kitchen, she hears shuffling from the living room before padded feet approach the kitchen. Maeve turns from where she’s balanced precariously on the tips of her toes trying to reach the top-most shelf of the tea cabinet.  
  


“You could help me, you know,” she grumbles.  
  


“Not my fault you’re such a shorty,” comes Eiza’s response, though her teasing is hindered by how thick her voice is with sleep. She helps anyway, pushing up behind Maeve and easily plucking the box of cherry black tea from the shelf. She left a kiss on her lovers cheek as she passed the box over. “You shouldn’t just turn lights on like that, you really startled me!” she called over her shoulder as she returned to the living room, likely to straighten up the explosion of loose-leaf papers.  
  


Maeve didn’t respond except to stick her tongue out at the doorway, knowing Eiza couldn’t see her. She clinked around with mugs and spoons and milk and sugar, humming a gentle tune under her breath until the tea was finally done. By the time two mugs were topped off and she was shuffling back into the living room with them precariously balanced in her hands, Eiza’s papers were more organized and she was back to working.  
  


“C’mon, babe, take a break for a sec.” Maeve pouted.  
  


“I’m seriously busy, I forgot about this paper and need to finish it.” Eiza took the mug presented to her, breathing deep to enjoy the aroma of warm milk tea. She sipped slowly, careful not to burn her tongue. Maeve’s eyes were heavy on her, making sure the tea was perfection. She smiled to make a show of enjoying the beverage, however, and licked her lips as she set it down. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do, though. Maeve’s eyes tracked her tongue, latching on to the innocent movement.  
  


“You’ve been working so hard, though. You deserve a little treat, hmm?” She all but purred, crawling over the arm of the couch. She perched so lightly she barely even dented the cushions. She advanced on Eiza, holding the other girl’s gaze as she set her mug down and then crawled over the older girls lap with intention. As she leaned down, loose strands of her hair tickled across Eiza’s face, gentle little whispers perfumed with the sweet shampoo her lover used.  
  


With the light shining from behind her head, Maeve painted the picture of a renaissance angel. Any other time, it would have been a fitting description. Now, though, with the woman in question straddling her with an expression that made Eiza’s toes curl in anticipation, Maeve looked downright sinful.  
  


Eiza’s eyes were half-lidded and Maeve could taste her breath on her lips. They leant in closer, closer. Maeve closed her eyes as their lips brushed, and then met in a chaste kiss. They parted, and Eiza pushed up to meet her again. They kissed like they had all the time in the world, like they would die if they stopped, so why stop? When Eiza’s tongue brushed the seam of Maeve’s lips, the younger girl let out a soft sound and laid more of her weight down against Eiza’s chest, letting herself be led through the kiss with more passion. Maeve could get drunk off the taste of Eiza, sharp like her coffee and rough because she forgets to wear lipbalm and spends all day picking at her lips. Their kisses gradually slowed until they were once again gentle presses.  
  


Maeve pulled back and watched as Eiza’s eyes fluttered open. Her favorite part of kissing was always watching Eiza regain her bearings, eyes unfocussed and glossy and cheeks warm like it was their first time all over again. Her smile was a shaky, breathless thing.  
  


“Mr. Mephistopheles is about to get his ass beat.” Was the first thing out of Eiza’s mouth. Which. Okay. Not the most romantic thing to say after Maeve thoroughly kissed her, but also not the worst thing Eiza has said in a passionate moment.  
  


“What’d he do this time?”  
  


“He sat right down on my feet and has been biting me this whole time. Literally. As soon as we started kissing, he went ‘free real estate’ and settled down to dull his teeth. Like we didn’t spend way too much money on a huge cat tree.” Eiza was grumbling, but her irritation was dulled by how she still couldn’t focus her attention onto Maeve’s eyes for more than a few seconds without looking back at her flushed and kiss-slick lips.  
  


“How unfortunate.” Maeve laughed in mild disbelief, but Mr. Mephistopheles was definitely the type of problem child to demand love and attention at the worst of times, so she believed it. As she sat up and moved to cuddle up against the side of Eiza, the demon-cat in question did indeed stand from near their feet. He was quick to approach the open laps, and Maeve didn’t waste any time to cuddle him close and start cooing about how needy he was.  
  


With a betrayed mew, Bookshelf ran from his hiding place to get his share of love, and Eiza scooped him up into her arms to smatter him with kisses. Despite the mood being ruined, it was times like this that Eiza treasured the most. The love of her life sharing a quite evening cuddled up on the couch with their two little babies. Homework could wait. This was far more important to her.

X

When Maeve awoke, the gentle streams of dawn’s honeyed light cast rivers onto the walls from between slivers of gauzy curtain. She stretched, yawned, and heaved herself out of bed, careful not to jostle the sleeping body next to her. A warm shower was in order to start the morning off right.  
  


As she started up the water, she grabbed an assortment of mason jars and vials from the bathroom counter, mumbling productivity spells under her breath as she poured bits of liquid from the variety of bottles into her bathtub. Beautiful, light fragrances filled the room as the steam activated the blends. Rose, thyme, mint, honey, and more. As she stepped into the shower, Maeve shed her worries from the night, her restlessness and soreness, and embraced the new day and all it offered. She mentally ran down her checklist as she stepped out of the shower to moisturize and brush her teeth.  
  


Today was watering day, and she had a lot of work ahead of her.  
  


Watering day was exhausting. It started with gathering all the movable potted plants from around the little apartment and carrying them into the kitchen. Then she began the process of filling up jars of water and going about appropriately watering each and every plant. As she watered, she sang softly under her breath, gentle lullabies from her childhood and some evocations to encourage growth and health in her lovely babies.  
  


Every plant had its own special needs. The succulents on the living room windowsills didn't like to be moved, so she carried water to them and made sure not to drown the poor things. There were trees, fiddle-leaf figs, in her bedroom that would bruise and die if they were handled too roughly, so Maeve took jugs of water to them as well. They were growing such large, beautiful leaves that she cooed to them and gathered sunrise-charged crystals to place at the base of their thin trunks to give it strength. She watered all the hanging plants in the living room and bedroom, the office, the kitchen. Baskets of Pothos and Philodendrons that grew long, ivy-like vines of leaves hanging gracefully and nearly sweeping the ground, their pots seemed to overflow with leafy greens and limes.  
  


There were many more plants, Sansevierias of every type, Hoyas, Peperomias, large-leafed Monsteras, thin-stalked Zanzibar's, and rows of planters for herbs or all types. Prayer plants and Calatheas with their deep red undersides sat on side tables, and there was a cluster of aloe plants in the corner of the kitchen.  
  


While in the kitchen, Maeve started up a pot of Eiza's favored coffee blend, something foreign and rich that she liked in the mornings of days like this, before she carried on tending to her pride and joys. The countertops were littered with glasses full of propagating leaves, growing roots in water. Maeve carefully emptied and refilled each container, lovingly returning the baby stalks and barely sprouting shoots to their temporary homes. Soon enough, some of them would be ready to transfer to soil.  
  


The Begonias were struggling where they were in the entryway, so Maeve carried them into the living room and found them a place to sit, perched on an end table in a little trio of clay pots, right near the window and fresh light.  
  


About her, the morning bloomed and the sun rose to full height, casting rainbows through the old glass panes of the windows and bathing the world in birdsong. The decadent aroma of coffee had flooded the apartment and had cut through the haze of sleep clinging to the inhabitants.  
  
As Maeve finished returning the last of the living room plants to their homes, arms wound around her middle, pulling her backwards into a warm body.  
  


"Eiza, your morning breath is terrible, love," she giggled, leaning back and relishing in a happy, productive morning.  
  


"Mhmm but you still love me," it was obvious from the gravel in Eiza's voice that she was still mostly asleep.  
  


Turning around in her arm prison, Maeve clasped a hand to Eiza's mouth, pressed a kiss over her own fingers, and wiggled her way out of the entrapment. "Go brush your teeth, sleeping beauty. Come get your kisses when you don’t have morning breath." With a gentle nudge, Eiza grumbled but did as requested. When she disappeared, Maeve's attention landed on Mr. Mephistopheles and Bookshelf, perched on their cat tree. One of Mr. Mephistopheles’ paws was buried in the soil of a hanging Pothos.  


“Oh, you get out of there!”

  
  


When Eiza returned from her much-needed shower with breath smelling of mint, she hovered in the doorway to the kitchen. The smell of sweet pancakes and coffee was enticing, but not nearly as much as the sight. The flush of joy on Maeve’s face and the smear of pancake batter, spoon held in her hand as she sung along to old love songs on the staticky radio made Eiza’s heart stutter in her chest. This silly, beautiful woman meant the world to her. She patted her cardigan pocket before removing the box. She would have liked to do this properly, but she couldn’t think of a better time than now.  
  


Eiza picked up a dried sprig of lavender from the vase on the counter, and knelt in the doorway of the kitchen, calling gently to get the attention of her love.  
  


She barely managed to get the first word out of her mouth before Maeve had thrown herself into Eiza’s open arms, tackling them both out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She hugged so tightly Eiza was worried she might never let go.  
  


“Is that a yes?” was all Eiza could choke out, voice thick with unshed tears.  
  


“Yes! Yes, you stupid, beautiful woman!” Maeve was crying, face tucked into her lover, her fiancée’s shoulder. “Now,” she had to stop to pull back and swallow audibly. “Come eat the breakfast that most definitely is not burnt.”  
  


Eiza held her in her arms a moment longer, and then picked up the box from where it had been dropped, removing the delicate gold band and sliding it on to Maeve’s waiting finger. It was understated, elegant, and perfect. Maeve couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life wearing it. Thankfully, breakfast wasn’t too terribly overdone, and Maeve spent the whole time watching the way sunlight glistened off the precious metal. They ate seconds and thirds before Eiza dragged Maeve back to their bedroom and left the dishes for much, much later.

**Author's Note:**

> some day.... i will fix the formatting. eventually. probably.
> 
> thank you for reading this far! i love you and would die for you.  
> maybe consider commenting?? if you want an update? i love these characters and would totally write more about them... thank you!


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